


Welt

by Resin



Category: The Walking Dead (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2068929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resin/pseuds/Resin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You will keep on existing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welt

**Author's Note:**

> an AU in which you escaped along with the cabin group. or, at least one of them. kind of short but maybe I'll continue this. I'm also not sure if I should keep this platonic or not. I'll see in the future. B)!

Your legs threw one after another, the adrenaline and fear feeling almost involuntary. But you're so consciously desperate to get away from this wild crowd, and from what you can recall, you only survived because of that strange blonde lady in the coat and her advice. Rotten blood stained your skin, angrily drawn across your wide-eyed worry-worn face as you sprinted after another familiar figure in the dark of night, trying to call out to him for some assistance.

 

He ran with the same vigor as you did; like a deer, afraid and instinctual. He was going after that close friend of his, though he was obviously lost in the crowd at this rate. But the man kept his pace, glancing over his shoulder only once to (you can only assume) check to see if you weren't some fast walker on his heels. He didn't seem to care for you much, seeming to hold some passive-aggressive disdain for you. You're not sure if you remember his name, actually. Nick, you think.

 

Nick's silhouette absorbed into the pines, leaving the two of you to seek shelter alone (though the destination seemed entirely up to him, being the head of the two.) You reached out in front of yourself to grab at his shirt to make him stop already, but you fruitlessly miss. You mumbled incoherent words, trying to get some form of solid communication between you and him, desperately trying to get him to look at you because the soreness in your bones was killing you.

 

"Hey-- hey, wait, please," you said, unable to make your dried out throat produce a decent sound.

 

Only his heavy breathing was his response. So, you figured he wasn't going to speak to you at this point, and you decidedly tagged along with him quietly, lingering much like his shadow did in the woods. You were so tired.

 

* * *

 

"Get in."

 

You shut the door to the family van as quietly as you could through shaky arms, though you were aware that vans typically aren't made for finesse. Upon closer inspection, the windows to this vehicle were taped over, probably to cut off vision in the back of the van. You also make note of the empty water bottles and discarded blankets that seemed to dot the vehicle's flooring, the light filtering in from the skylight giving the objects a whitewash. Taking advantage, you make a short beeline to one of the blankets on the floor despite their thinness. 

 

Your figure hunched downwards into a crouch, letting your spine relax somewhat against the wall behind you; Nick did the same, and he neglected a blanket, sitting under the window above, keeping a decent distance between you two. 

  


"... Oka-okay, listen. Shouldn't we go back for the rest?"

  


He looked to you from below his cap, and what you assumed to be a darkly-lit glare stared back at you. His attitude would typically leave you feeling a bit sour if not completely guilty (despite given no reason to,) but in the moment, your body and mind was still set in a rather survivalist-like state. The best you could give him in response was a weak glance off in an attempt to escape his stare to the half-empty water bottle beside you, which drew a hum from you in a short-lived satisfaction. You reached for it, unscrewing the lid and taking rather large sips from the lip. You sealed it again and rolled it off to him without much hesitance; a kind of 'get well soon' gesture since you couldn't exactly buy him a card.

  


Giving him one last look-over as he seemed relatively disinterested in your offer, you turned over, leaning your side into the floor. You couldn't focus on anything; you can't. Your eyes jump everywhere, even as they squeezed shut and stung mildly under your eyelids. 

  


It was strange, though. Once you opened them again, it was day and the vehicle you rested in was producing a gentle mechanical hum. Your arms propped you up sharply, glancing out the open windows to find yourself gazing out of the truck and into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant, watching as your friend waved you over, calling your name.

  


They approached you, appealingly handing you a styrofoam container, the familiar scent of food filling your lungs and giving you a somewhat silly grin. You placed it into the back and turned, finding your arm to be gripped by a wet and rotten hand. The corpse yanked you mid-way out of the window and pushed your head to the side with the force of a slap in spite of your hysterical and shell-shocked protests.

  


"Wake up!"

  


Your face felt clammy and cold, your eyes throwing themselves open to see someone's silhouette overshadowing yours as you slammed your hands into their face and chest. You find that you were the one making the strange muted squeaks, desperately trying to swallow though it felt like trying to eat a dry rag.

  


"Stop! Hey! Calm down, it's just me!"

  


Writhing and yanking, you threw your head to the side, coming to a standstill. The person above you, even though they weren't trying to hold you down, felt very constricting. Your shaking shoulders and hands found themselves bundled up under you, shielding your face even as you looked back to the stranger close to you; Nick. His hat was very lopsided, threatening to fall off, and he was squinting in one eye rather awkwardly.

  


"Fuck, fu-ck, fuck--" you repeated in a hoarse whisper, 

  


He drew a hand towards you, causing you to involuntarily flinch as he used the back of his hand to wipe away the liquids from your jawline; this gesture didn't stop it from flooding back however. Your shirt felt wet, sticking to your upper chest, back and arms which caused you to squirm even as Nick moved to your side and lift you to your feet, catching the small fine lines between his eyebrows on his face. You couldn't exactly make it out, but he seemed worried. He shared a glance with you and leant his head down and off to the side, examining his surroundings and guiding you by your sleeve to the door of the van. Slowly, he escorted your shiver-wracked figure out into the thinly-placed pines.

  


"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up. We need to find the others."

  


  


  



End file.
